


Let's Hang Out Sometime

by skittenninja



Series: Whumptober 2020 [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Blood, Gen, Kidnapping, Restraints, Torture, Vampires, Waking up Restrained, Whump, Whumptober 2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:48:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26760886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skittenninja/pseuds/skittenninja
Summary: Whumptober 2020 Day One: Sam wakes up restrained at the hands of a bloodthirsty vampire out for revenge.
Series: Whumptober 2020 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1949905
Kudos: 13





	Let's Hang Out Sometime

At this point, Sam was no stranger to waking up in unfamiliar places.

That didn’t mean that opening his eyes and being greeted with aching pains in his arms, a pinching feeling in his neck and a foggy head didn’t still absolutely suck.

It took Sam a few seconds to get his bearings, blinking away the haze in his mind to recall where he was and how he got there. His arms were forcibly suspended by something above him, trapping them in opposite upwards angles that Sam didn’t have the strength to break free of. What felt like metal chaffed against his wrists, digging into his skin even more every time he tried to move, like iron claws prepared to punish any sign of escape.

Sam could, thankfully, move his legs, and found that they were just close enough to the floor to allow him to stand. Once his boots were planted flat on the ground, however, he felt his head swim once more as his knees buckled and gave way. The metal cuffs prevented him from falling very far, but they once again stung his skin and pulled at his arms even harder, gravity making their painful hold even worse.

Several shaky breaths later, Sam was able to somewhat stand without collapsing again, although that murky feeling in his mind refused to lift. When was the last time he’d eaten or drank anything?

“You’re awake,” called a man from somewhere across the room. It sounded familiar, yet Sam couldn’t quite place it, the memory lingering in his mind like the barely visible scratches of a pencil on paper after you take a cheap eraser to it.

Sam went to say something back, but his own throat got in the way. It was horribly dry, his vocal cords like pieces of sandpaper rubbing together, and he was becoming more and more aware of the weird pinching sensation in his neck. The only sound he could make was something between a wheeze and a cough

“Ah, sorry about that,” the voice chimed in again.

Sam could hear him walking across the room, heavy shoes echoing across a stone floor rhythmically. He could see his silhouette barely outlined by what looked like a small group of candles on the other side of the room, but nothing more.

“I suppose we need to give you water at some point. No point in live bait if I let it die.”

“Bait?” Sam managed to croak out, surprised his voice had even allowed him one word.

“Of course,” the figure said, and Sam swore he could hear a smile on his lips. “It’s only fair, after what your brother did to mine.”

The sentence caused something to click in Sam’s brain, and the mystery of how he got in his current position became less muddled.

They’d been on a hunt, him and Dean. Cas had been waiting not too far away in case they needed back up because Dean had told him to stay a fair distance away. Something about this hunt being personal, unfinished business. Dean had said they’d never lure the suckers out if the vamps knew an angel was waiting to kill them.

It had been a trap, as was often the case. Sam remembered running behind Dean, both of them barely making it out, just a couple strides away from catching up with his brother.

Then nothing.

“Dean,” Sam said aloud as the realization dawned on him.

This was a trap for Dean.

“Bingo,” the figure chuckled. “I must have hit you on the head harder than I thought, it took you a lot longer than the stories about you would have me believe. Then again, anyone would be a bit lightheaded after giving blood.”

Another sickening realization hit Sam, accompanied by a wave of nausea as all his brain could focus on was the feeling on his neck.

Something was _in_ it, and he didn’t have to take a wild guess as to why.

“So what, you’re going to bleed me dry?” Sam asked hoarsely, subtly trying to shift his wrists around in the chains to find something he could exploit, though it was a longshot. “I can’t exactly be both bait and your personal blood bank.”

“I got a family to feed,” the figure retorted, and Sam could make out a faint shrug in the dim lighting. “And I got a family to protect. Might as well kill two birds with one stone, literally and metaphorically.”

As subtly as he could, Sam ensured his position made him appear weaker than he actually felt. Being well over six feet tall made that hard to accomplish sometimes, but he had years of practice on his side, days spent trying to blend in. His wrists and shoulders screamed as he allowed them to hold a little more of his weight, but Sam knew he’d have to bear it.

“What, is cow blood not good enough for you?” Sam prompted, trying to get his captor to keep talking. He really wasn’t interested in what they had to say, but it would buy him some time.

“Never cared for the stuff,” the figure replied, starting to saunter over to Sam. “Neither did my brother. That’s why yours killed him apparently.”

A laugh bounced around the dark room, but it sounded hollow with no humour to support it.

“Did you know he had a family to feed back then? I was just a kid, but I already had a niece. Thomas didn’t want to have her starve in order to spare some people who’d kill us if they knew who we were.”

Sam didn’t need to see the figure’s face to know it donned a sneer, one that aimed those words right at him.

There was a clatter, metal against stone, followed by scraping. Sam’s captor was dragging something heavy along the ground as he walked towards him, and it sounded like incoming pain.

“Your brother didn’t want to kill a kid, but he killed her dad. So, who’s really the monster here?”

Sam shot out a leg to blindly kick at the figure, but the man moved faster than he predicted. Something collided with his knee and made a sound somewhere between a crack and a crunch. Searing pain shot up through Sam’s body from his left leg and he instantly knew that several parts of it were not going to work the way they should.

He cried out as he instinctively took any remaining weight off of his feet, the sudden harsh tug on his arms reminding him of the chains that kept him suspended. Sam’s shoulders, arms, and legs were all screaming in agony, blood and broken bones and injured muscles combining in a horrible melange of torture.

It took a bit for Sam to regain his bearings again, shifting his weight onto his good leg as he shakily tried to stand up. He was trembling from the pain that was steadily coursing through every part of him, but he grit his teeth and let out a small, defiant chuckle.

“I can’t tell if you were never told the whole story or if you’re just in denial,” Sam said, voice and words unsteady but their intent cutting clear and true.

“What do you know? You weren’t even there.”

“I didn’t recognize you at first, but the name Thomas rings a bell. Your brother got killed because he was a monster, and I don’t mean that because of the fangs. I mean because he _liked_ killing people. The guy was a serial killer in his hometown. They found all the proof in his house after they found his body, and of course they had to put his kid somewhere else, so she went to live with an aunt on her mom’s side. Dean said he met her, said he knew she was a vampire but that she baked the best peanut butter cookies he’d ever had. I’m willing to bet she’s a good woman raising a good kid. But you knew all that already, didn’t you?”

Sam’s captor was silent, but he could see his silhouetted shoulders trembling in the dark. From what emotion, Sam couldn’t tell.

A kick landed squarely on the shin of his good leg and Sam went down again. Blood from the wrecked skin on his wrists trickling down his arms was the only other thing he could feel besides the burning in his limbs. Nausea was welling up inside of him as the pain continued on with no end in sight. Sam knew he’d cried out again, but his voice sounded muffled to his own ears as agony swam around in his head.

Through the haze, Sam somehow managed to hear the cracking of a door being broken down from across the room. He tried to open his eyes, but the light that was pouring in from the broken entry was blindingly bright compared to the candle-lit darkness he’d become accustomed to. It stung at his eyes and he was forced to shut them again to avoid causing himself more suffering.

There was a fight going on across the room between Sam’s captor and someone else, who Sam assumed was Dean. Blows were exchanged back and forth as unknown objects clattered to the floor. The trademark hiss of a vampire cut through the noise briefly before being abruptly silenced as someone tumbled to the floor.

“Sam?” A familiar voice said from directly in front of him, taking Sam’s attention away from the brawl.

Sam managed to pry his eyes open and found Castiel standing before him, looking extremely concerned but relieved that Sam was alive.

“Help,” he croaked out, and Cas immediately moved to free him of his restraints while Dean continued to fight off the vampire in the background.

Cas touched a hand to the right cuff and only a moment later Sam felt a click, followed by a great relief in his wrist as the chain clattered away from him and swung back to the wall. He didn’t have the strength or balance to hold himself up, but Cas seemed to notice in time and helped Sam lean on him for support. Slowly, he felt the pinching sensation in his neck disappear as Cas took out the instrument that had been draining his blood. A burning, tingling sensation immediately coming from where the open wound would be let Sam know that Cas was healing it.

Just as Cas unlocked the other cuff, Sam heard a wet slashing noise, followed by dead weight hitting the ground while something rolled away. Evidently, Dean had cut the vampire’s head off.

“That son of a bitch fought dirty,” Dean remarked, slightly out of breath. He tried to give Sam a smile, which Sam could just make out now that his eyes had better adjusted, but he could see the worry in his brother’s face when he got a better look at Sam’s condition.

“You, uh... You gonna be okay there, Sammy?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Sam said less than convincingly.

He was only able to take one step forward with his not messed up leg before the world went black again.


End file.
